I grew up just a short distance north of Spillville, Iowa. Even in those days, the town was very Czech. In Dvorak's time, it was as Czech as San Francisco's China Town was Chinese. In Dvorak's day, the brewer delivered a bucket of beer to your front door every morning, as was custom in the old country. (Somebody start that business in Sunnyvale :)
Spillville and Protivin were so Czech even when I was in school that I had bilingual classmates, because their grandparents spoke mostly Czech, still. And I can tell you this.... when you are a substitute teacher for a 2nd-grade class where one third of the kids have vowel-challenged names, oh the misery. Before you are half-way done taking attendance you will have suffered so much derisive laughter for the mispronounced names that you will have lost control of the classroom for the rest of the day.
Anyway, Dvorak felt very much at home in Spillville. During his day, Czech was the language of main street and the neighborhood.
Spillville and Protivin were so Czech even when I was in school that I had bilingual classmates, because their grandparents spoke mostly Czech, still. And I can tell you this.... when you are a substitute teacher for a 2nd-grade class where one third of the kids have vowel-challenged names, oh the misery. Before you are half-way done taking attendance you will have suffered so much derisive laughter for the mispronounced names that you will have lost control of the classroom for the rest of the day.
Anyway, Dvorak felt very much at home in Spillville. During his day, Czech was the language of main street and the neighborhood.